So...there was a thing called the Mexican-American War...

Do not own Hetalia, or else Mexico, her Anglo-phile brother Belize, and their cousin Chile would show up.


February 2, 1848

The exchange would go on as planned, but there was something that had not been included. Not even in the fine print. Just as the leaders were agreeing to the terms, Alfred pulled Teresa aside, far from their eyes and ears.

Pressing her lovingly against the wall, America smiled at her. There had been no smiles between them for such a long time. He thought at least now she would finally be ready to become his.

"We said we'd be together, once we were independent. Do you remember that, Xochi?"

She only gazed at him as though he were an irritating child, and replied, "You may only call me either Mexico or Teresa Hidalgo, America. I've no time for such foolishness. After all, I have a nation to build. Shouldn't you be doing the same?"

The war managed to make Alfred forget every tender word between them. The massacre at the Alamo was the final straw, and all she had sustained was a crack in her glasses. Once inside her borders, America was relentless. He fought against her every way he knew how, exchanging battle cries, mixing their blood together, and throwing insults at each other.

Finally, at Chapultepec Castle, America held the gun against Mexico's head as she clutched the body of a young soldier in her arms. She had fallen to her knees, surrounded by corpses from both sides, and whispered her surrender.

He instantly drew the gun away, the voice in his head yelling the entire time, Don't shoot her, you idiot! You said you loved her! How can you live with yourself if you kill her?

He'd already hurt her. Most assuredly she would have scars that would not fade away for a long time. There was a terrifying moment, in the heat of that same battle, when he thought he'd killed her.

He hadn't meant to pull the trigger. Mexico was aiming her own rifle at one of his Marines. He only meant to threaten her, and make her concentrate on him. America's gun went off, and she suddenly crumpled to the ground.

No…No…!

He wanted to go to her, but the sea of bodies prevented him from moving. But she lived.

She lived right now, in his arms.

Alfred kissed her forehead, then moved to her stubborn lips. He felt her stiffen, but he tried coaxing her gently. It's me, Teresa. Do you remember this at all? Can you remember that night in your room? You and I were happy then.

As much as he caressed her lips with his, she never moved. Clutching her shoulders, he pulled away, disheartened.

Her brown eyes looked up at him icily, but her voice was soft when she asked, "What do you want, America?"

She was already giving him the glasses—half of her territory, in fact. But that was nothing compared to having her love him the way she did those centuries ago. Laughing nervously, Alfred replied, "You…you know what I want. Teresa, I never stopped loving you, but when you started killing American troops-"

"You were annexing my territory. You would do the same if Canada annexed New York."

"First off, Mattie doesn't have the balls to do that. Second, I had to expand my territory. You're going to be fine without Texas and the rest of the territories. I can tell."

He heard her teeth gnash before she asked again, "What do you want?"

Alfred swallowed, trying to ease the knots in his stomach. Sure, Al. You can kill her people, but you can't make such an easy request.

"S…Sleep with me."

Instantly, Mexico glared at him in disgust. Her voice trembled with anger as she said, "I am giving you land. You have killed so many of my people. You've humiliated me in front of the world, and you would dare ask me to fuck you?"

Alfred shook his head entreatingly. "Fucking isn't the same as making love! Teresa, I forgave you a long time ago. Now…all I want to do is let you know how much you mean to me. I don't want to humiliate you at all, I just…" He leaned his forehead against hers, feeling no warmth. "I can't let this end without finding out if there can be anything between us."

She lowered her eyes, her breathing angry. She had agreed and they returned, the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo signed, and the glasses handed over to America.

He was making his way to her bedroom, obsessively adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. He reached her door and knocked twice before going inside.

The room was sparsely lit by a single lantern. Alfred searched for Teresa and found her on the bed, covered by a single blanket and already undressed, her hair spread on her pillow. She was glaring up at the ceiling, as though unable to believe that she had to go through such indignity. Finding her naked was a slight disappointment, since he wanted to do undress her himself. He wanted to get rid of her elaborate clothing and rediscover the Aztec goddess within, as he did two centuries ago in Spain's house.

"Teresa-"

"Shut up and get it over with."

So much hate in her sweet voice. Alfred felt as though he were being shot, clawed, and stabbed. Quietly and quickly he took his own clothes off, bringing to mind the soft noises she once made back then, in a similar situation. It made him painfully hard. His breathing quickened and he walked over to slip inside the covers, placing the glasses on her night table. His hand touched soft flesh that quickly recoiled.

Teresa shut her eyes. Alfred had known her long enough to know that it was a sign that she was fighting back tears. He settled between her legs, tenderly reaching over to touch her cheek. He leaned down to tenderly kiss her earlobe and whispered, "Honey, I won't hurt you. I swear."

She said nothing.

Alfred let his hand travel down her body, licking her earlobe as his fingers traced her entrance. He expected her to cry out, like she did back then. He did succeed in preparing her, and thought he heard her breathing hitch whenever he pressed against her sensitive bud. Still, Teresa kept her face averted.

Quickly, he drove his cock inside her, earning him a startled moan. He deftly caught her lips, his tongue delving inside as he began to thrust. Alfred groaned into her mouth, feeling pleasantly surrounded by her warmth. He felt her arch against him as she tried to silence her own noises. He broke the kiss sloppily, his tongue tracing her swollen lips as his eyes searched for hers.

Teresa's earth-colored eyes were feverishly trying to look away, but Alfred went deeper, harder, until she could hardly tear her eyes away from his blue ones.

Yeah, sweetheart…Look at me like that all the time…

He gave one hard thrust, and Teresa let out a pleasured gasp. Alfred smirked as his climaxed neared, watching his lover lose herself in his continued onslaught. For a moment, he swore he saw love in her bright eyes. Her fists clutched the sheets, never his body. In a few moments she tightened around him, and he came inside her in hot spurts.

Panting in exhaustion, Alfred dropped to his elbows and breathed into the crook of her neck. "Xochi…God, you're…You don't know how I…"

"Please get out."

If his mind had been high in the heavens, those three words made him crash to the ground. Hurt, he looked up at her face. The mask was back on.

He had his answer.

Nevertheless, America gently pulled out, letting Mexico close her legs and turn to her side, covering her body completely.

Yet he ignored her request and gathered her in his arms, holding on tightly even as she scratched at him and called him every vulgar name under the sun. Alfred whispered over and over, "I'm sorry…I love you, so much, Xochi…I'm never letting you go."

Eventually she let her arms drop, and he felt her sob into his naked chest, her hands caressing his muscled abdomen. "Te amo! You bastard…I love you!" Then it was she who kissed him desperately, trying to memorize his taste. To dominate him once again.

Afterwards they bathed together, Teresa whispering her forgiveness as well as an apology while they lingered in the tepid water. He gently massaged her wet scalp, enjoying the way she nuzzled his neck as a reward.

At least they wished it had gone that way.

Teresa silently heard him dress, and said nothing when she heard the door shut. She was alone in her opulent bedroom, cowering beneath a sheet as Alfred's essence engulfed her. She let an entire minute pass before burying her face in her pillow and sobbing painfully.

"…Alfred…"

She hated herself. She never thought twice about divorcing Spain, but hurting Alfred…she had stabbed herself in the heart.

They both lost.


Yet another prequel to 'One Girl Revolution.' R & R!